For which attempt, the judges have pronounc'd My everlasting doom of banishment.

Tit. O happy man! they have befriended thee. Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive, That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? Tigers must prey; and Rome affords no prey, But me and mine: How happy art thou then, From these devourers to be banished? But who comes with our brother Marcus here? Enter Marcus and Lavinia.

Mar. Titus, prepare thy noble eyes to weep; Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break ; I bring consuming sorrow to thine age. Tit. Will it consume me? let me see it then. Mar. This was thy daughter. Tit. Why, Marcus, so she is.

Luc. Ah me! this object kills me!

Tit. Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon Speak, my Lavinia, what accursed hand (her: Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight? What fool hath added water to the sea? Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy? My grief was at the height, before thou cam'st, And now, like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds. Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too; For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain ; And they have nurs'd this woe, in feeding life; In bootless prayer have they been held up, And they have serv'd me to effectless use: Now, all the service I require of them Is, that the one will help to cut the other.'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands; For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain. Luc. Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee?

Mar. O, that delightful engine of her thoughts, That blab'd them with such pleasing eloquence, Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage; Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear! [deed? Luc. O, say thou for her, who hath done this Mar. O, thus I found her, straying in the park, Seeking to hide herself; as doth the deer, That hath receiv'd some unrecuring wound.

Tit. It was my deer; and he that wounded her, Hath hurt me more, than had he kill'd me dead : For now I stand as one upon a rock, Environ'd with a wilderness of sea; Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, Expecting ever when some envious surge Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. This way to death my wretched sons are gone ; Here stands my other son, a banish'd man; And here my brother, weeping at my woes : But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn, Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soulHad I but seen thy picture in this plight, It would have madded me; What shall I do Now I behold thy lively body so?

Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears; Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee: Thy husband he is dead; and, for his death, Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this: Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her! When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears Stood on her cheeks; as doth the honey dew Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd.

Mar. Perchance, she weeps because they kill'd her husband:

Perchance, because she knows them innocent.
Tit. If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful,
Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them.-
No, no, they would not do so foul a deed;
Witness the sorrow that their sister makes.-
Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips;

Or make some sign how I may do thee ease:
Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius,
And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain;
Looking all downwards, to behold our cheeks
How they are stain'd; like meadows, yet not dry
With miry slime left on them by a flood?

| And in the fountain shall we gaze so long,
Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness,
And make a brine-pit with our bitter tears ? +
Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine ?
Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows
Pass the remainder of our hateful days?
What shall we do ? let us, that have our tongues,
Plot some device of further misery,
To make us wonder'd at in time to come. [grief,
Luc. Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your
See, how my wretched sister sobs and weeps.
Mar. Patience, dear niece good Titus, dry
thine eyes.

Tit. Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot, Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, [own. For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine Luc. Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. Tit. Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her

Aar. Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor
Sends thee this word,-That, if thou love thy sons,
Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus,
Or any one of you, chop off your hand,
And send it to the king: he, for the same,
Will send thee hither both thy sons alive;
And that shall be the ransome for their fault.

Tit. O, gracious emperor ! O, gentle Aaron!
Did ever raven sing so like a lark,
That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise ?
With all my heart, I'll send the emperor
My hand;

Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off?

Luc. Stay, father: for that noble hand of thine, That hath thrown down so many enemies, Shall not be sent; my hand will serve the turn: My youth can better spare my blood than you: And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. Mar. Which of your hands hath not defended And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, Rome, Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? O, none of both but are of high desert: My hand hath been but idle; let it serve To ransome my two nephews from their death; Then have I kept it to a worthy end. **

*

Aar. Nay, come agree, whose hand shall go For fear they die before their pardon come. (along, Mar. My hand shall go.

Luc.

By heaven, it shall not go Tit. Sirs, strive no more; such wither'd herbs as these

Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine.
Luc. Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy sen,
Let me redeem my brothers both from death.
Mar. And, for our father's sake, and mother's
Now let me show a brother's love to thee.
(care,
Tit. Agree between you; I will spare my hand
Luc. Then I'll go fetch an axe.
Mar.

But I will use the axe. [Exeunt Lucius and Marcus, Tit. Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both;

Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine.

Aar. If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, And never, whilst I live, deceive men so :→→→ But I'll deceive you in another sort,

And that you'll say, ere half an hour can pass.

[Aside

From thousand dangers; bid him bury it;
More hath it merited, that let it have.
As for my sons, say, I account of them
As jewels purchas'd at an easy price;
And yet dear too, because I bought mine own.
Aar. I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand,
Look by and by to have thy sons with thee:
Their heads I mean.-O, how this villainy [Aside.
Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it!
Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace,
Aaron will have his soul black like his face. [Exit.
Tit. O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven,
And bow this feeble ruin to the earth:
If any power pities wretched tears,
To that I call:-What, wilt thou kneel with me?
[To Lavinia.
Do then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our
prayers:

Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim,
And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds,
When they do hug him in their melting bosoms.
Mar. O brother, speak with possibilities,
And do not break into these deep extremes.
Tit. Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom?
Then be my passions bottomless with them.

Mar. But yet let reason govern thy lament.
Tit. If there were reason for these miseries,
Then into limits could I bind my woes: [flow?
When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'er-
If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad,
Threat'ning the welkin with his big-swoln face?
And wilt thou have a reason for this coil ?
I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow!
She is the weeping welkin, I the earth:
Then must my sea be moved with her sighs;
Then must my earth with her continual tears
Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd:
For why? my bowels cannot hide her woes,
But like a drunkard must I vomit them.
Then give me leave; for losers will have leave
To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues.
Enter a Messenger with two heads and a hand.
Mess. Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid
For that good hand thou send'st the emperor.
Here are the heads of thy two noble sons;
And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back;
Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd:
That woe is me to think upon thy woes,
More than remembrance of my father's death.

[Exit.

Mar. Now let hot Etna cool in Sicily,
And be my heart an ever-burning hell!
These miseries are more than may be borne!
To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal,
But sorrow flouted at is double death.

-Luc. Ah, that this sight should make so deep a
And yet detested life not shrink thereat! [wound,
That ever death should let life bear his name,
Where life hath no more interest but to breathe!
(Lavinia kisses him.
Mars Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless,
As frozen water to a starved snake.
Tit. When will this fearful slumber have an end?
Mar. Now, farewell, flattery: Die, Andronicus;
Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads;
Thy warlike hand; thy mangled daughter here;
Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight
Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, 1,
Even like a stony image, cold and numb.
Ah! now no more will I control thy griefs:
Rent off thy silver hair, thy other hand.
Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight
The closing up of our most wretched eyes!
Now is a time to storm; why art thou still?
Tit Ha, ha, ha!

[hour. Mar. Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this Tit. Why, I have not another tear to shed: Besides, this sorrow is an enemy,

And would usurp upon my watry eyes,
And make them blind with tributary tears;
Then which way shall I find revenge's cave?

For these two heads do seem to speak to me;
And threat me, I shall never come to bliss,
Till all these mischiefs be return'd again,
Even in their throats that have committed them.
Come, let me see what task I have to do.
You heavy people, circle me about;
That I may turn me to each one of you,
And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs.
The vow is made.-Come, brother, take a head;
And in this hand the other will I bear:
Lavinia, thou shalt be employed in these things;
Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy
teeth.

As for thee, boy, go, get thee from my sight;
Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay:
Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there:
And, if you love me, as I think you do,
Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do.

[Exeunt Titus, Marcus, and Lavinia.
Luc. Farewell, Andronicus, my noble father;
The woeful'st man that ever liv'd in Rome!
Farewell, proud Rome! till Lucius come again,
He leaves his pledges dearer than his life.
Farewell, Lavinia, my noble sister;

O, 'would thou wert as thou 'tofore hast been!
But now nor Lucius, nor Lavinia lives,
But in oblivion, and hateful griefs.
If Lucius live, he will requite your wrongs;
And make proud Saturninus and his empress
Beg at the gates, like Tarquin and his queen.
Now will I to the Goths, and raise a power,
To be reveng'd on Rome and Saturnine.

[Exita

SCENE II-A Room in Titus's House. A Banquet set out.

Enter Titus, Marcus, Lavinia, and young Lucius, a boy.

Tit. So, so; now sit and look, you eat no more
Than will preserve just so much strength in us
As will revenge these bitter woes of ours.
Marcus, unknit that sorrow-wreathen knot;
Thy niece and I, poor creatures, want our hands,
And cannot passionate our tenfold grief
With folded arms. This poor right hand of mine
Is left to tyrannize upon my breast;
And when my heart, all mad with misery
Beats in this hollow prison of my flesh,
Then thus I thump it down.-

Thou map of woe, that thus dost talk in signs!
[To Lavinia.
When thy poor heart beats with outrageous beat.
Thou canst not strike it thus to make it still. [ing,
Wound it with sighing, girl, kill it with groans;
Or get some little knife between thy teeth,
And just against thy heart make thou a hole;
That all the tears that thy poor eyes let fall,
May run into that sink, and soaking in,
Drown the lamenting fool in sea-salt tears.

Mar. Fye, brother, fye! teach her not thus to lay
Such violent hands upon her tender life. [already?
Tit. How now! has sorrow made thee dote
Why, Marcus, no man should be mad but I.
What violent hands can she lay on her life!
Ah, wherefore dost thou urge the name of hands ;-
To bid Eneas tell the tale twice o'er,
How Troy was burnt, and he made miserable?
O, handle not the theme, to talk of hands;
Lest we remember still, that we have none.-
Fye, fye, how frantickly I square my talk!
As if we should forget we had no hands,
If Marcus did not name the word of hands!-
Come, let's fall to; and, gentle girl, eat this:
Here is no drink! Hark, Marcus, what she says;-
I can interpret all her martyr'd signs;-
She says, she drinks no other drink but tears,
Brew'd with her sorrows, mesh'd upon her cheeks:-
Speechless complainer, I will learn thy thought;
In thy dumb action will I be as perfect,
As begging hermits in their holy prayers:
Thou shalt not sigh, nor hold thy stumps to hea
Nor wink, nor nod, nor kneel, nor make a sign,

[ven,

But if you hurt these bear whelps, then beware:
The dam will wake; and, if she wind you once,
She's with the lion deeply still in league,
And lulls him whilst she playeth on her back,
And, when he sleeps, will she do what she list.
You're a young huntsman, Marcus; let it alone;
And, come, I will go get a leaf of brass,
And with a gad of steel will write these words,
And lay it by: the angry northern wind
Will blow these sands, like Sybil's leaves, abroad,
And where's your lesson then?-Boy, what say you?
Boy. I say, my lord, that if I were a man,
Their mother's bed-chamber should not be safe
For these bad-bondmen to the yoke of Rome.

Captives, to be advanced to this height?
It did me good, before the palace gate
To brave the tribune in his brother's hearing.
Dem. But me more good, to see so great a lord
Basely insinuate, and send us gifts.

Aar. Had he not reason, lord Demetrius ?
Did you not use his daughter very friendly?
Dem. I would, we had a thousand Roman dames
At such a bay, by turn to serve our lust.
Chi. A charitable wish, and full of love.
Aar. Here lacks but your mother for to say amen.
Chi. And that would she for twenty thousand

more.

For this ungrateful country done the like.

sire.

Boy. And, uncle, so will I, an if I live. Tit. Come, go with me into mine armoury; Lucius, I'll fit thee; and withal, my boy Shall carry from me to the empress' sons Presents, that I intend to send them both: [not? Come, come; thou'lt do thy message, wilt thou Boy. Ay, with my dagger in their bosoms, grand[course. Tit. No, boy, not so; I'll teach thee another Lavinia, come:- Marcus, look to my house; Lucius and I'll go brave it at the court; Ay, marry, will we, sir; and we'll be waited on. [Exeunt Titus, Lavinia, and Boy. Mar. O heavens, can you hear a good man groan, And not relent, or not compassion him? Marcus, attend him in his ecstasy; That hath more scars of sorrow in his heart, Than foe-men's marks upon his batter'd shield: But yet so just, that he will not revenge :Revenge the heavens for old Andronicus! [Exit.

SCENE II.-The same. A Room in the Palace. Enter Aaron, Chiron, and Demetrius, at one door; at another door, young Lucius, and an Attendant, with a bundle of weapons, and verses writ upon them.

Chi. Demetrius, here's the son of Lucius; He hath some message to deliver to us. [father, Aar. Ay, some mad message from his mad grandBoy. My lords, with all the humbleness I may, I greet your honours from Andronicus;And pray the Roman gods, confound you both.

[Aside. Dem. Gramercy, lovely Lucius: What's the news? [news,

Boy. That you are both decipher'd, that's the For villains mark'd with rape. [Aside.] May it please you,

My grandsire, well-advis'd, hath sent by me
The goodliest weapons of his armoury,
To gratify your honourable youth,

The hope of Rome; for so he bade me say;
And so I do, and with his gifts present
Your lordships, that whenever you have need,
You may be armed and appointed well:
And so I leave you both, [Aside.] like bloody vil-
lains.
[Exeunt Boy and Attendant.
Dem. What's here? A scroll; and written round
Let's see;
[about?

Integer vitæ, scelerisque purus, Non eget Mauri jaculis, nec arcu.

Chi. O, 'tis a verse in Horace; I know it well: I read it in the grammar long ago.

[have it.

Aar. Ay, just!-a verse in Horace ;-right, you Now, what a thing it is to be an ass! Here's no sound jest! the old man hath found their guilt;

Aside.

And sends the weapons wrapp'd about with lines, [quick. That wound, beyond their feeling, to the 1 But were our witty empress well a-foot, She would applaud Andronicus' conceit. But let her rest in her unrest awhile.And now, young lords, was't not a happy star Led us to Rome, strangers, and, more than so,

o'er.

Aar. Pray to the devils; the gods have given us [Aside. Flourish. Dem. Why do the emperor's trumpets flourish

thus ?

I mean, she's brought to bed.

Give her good rest! What hath he sent her?
Well, God

Nur.

A devil, Aar. Why, then she's the devil's dam; a joyful issue. [sue Nur. A joyless, dismal, black, and sorrowful isHere is the babe, as loathsome as a toad Amongst the fairest breeders of our clime. The empress sends it thee, thy stamp, thy seal, And bids thee christen it with thy dagger's point. Aar. Out, out, you whore! is black so base a hue ?

Sweet blowse, you are a beauteous blossom, sure. Dem. Villain, what hast thou done?

Aar. Canst not undo.

Chi.

Done! that which thou

Thou hast undone our mother.

Aar. Villain, I have done thy mother.

Dem. And therein, hellish dog, thou hast undone. Woe to her chance, and damn'd her loathed choice! Accurs'd the offspring of so foul a fiend!

Chi. It shall not live.

Nur. Aaron, it must: the mother wills it so.
Aar. What, must it, nurse? then let no man,
Do execution on my flesh and blood. [but I,
Dem. I'll broach the tadpole on my rapier's
point;

Nurse, give it me; my sword shall soon despatch it.
Aar. Sooner this sword shall plow thy bowels up.
[Takes the child from the Nurse, and draws,
Stay, murderous villains! will you kill your bro
Now, by the burning tapers of the sky
ther?
That shone so brightly when this boy was got,
He dies upon my scimitar's sharp point,
That touches this my first-born son and heir!
I tell you, younglings, not Enceladus,
With all his threat'ning band of Typhon's brood,
Nor great Alcides, nor the god of war,
Shall seize this prey out of his father's hands.
What, what; ye sanguine, shallow-hearted boys!
Ye white-lim'd walls! ye alehouse painted signs!
Coal-black is better than another hue,